


There is a light

by chinesefood



Category: The 100, clarke griffin and lexa - Fandom, clexa - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, College AU, Drama & Romance, F/F, Heartbreak, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Lexa's mom is an asshole, Modern Setting, Post Break Up, Romance, Slow Burn, alternative universe, clexa au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 01:48:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6545521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinesefood/pseuds/chinesefood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post break up Clarke and Lexa go to the same university, and see each other after a year..</p>
            </blockquote>





	There is a light

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this super fast and let it be known I almost have no experience with writing stories, and I wanted to give it a try. This is probably terrible. let me know what you think, i love constructive criticism so comment away and tell me whats wrong with it, what needs work, ect :) (italic font is for dialogue,dramatic purposes, or internal monologe) it's also going to have a lot of chapters..

The alarm went off with a sudden urgency. It was loud and repetitive, but she made no effort to hit the snooze. She was far too tired, and much too warm. Instead she hushed the sound as if it were only faint background noise. She was awake now, that was for certain. Her eyes were shut still, she hoped that maybe if she ignored her consciousness, maybe if she thought of nothing, maybe if she could just continue where her dream had left off, she wouldn’t have to face her responsibilities today and she wouldn’t have to deal with the first day of class. With a slight nod, she dismissed those thoughts and got off that train, because who knew where that train of thought was going. She wouldn’t allow herself to feed that flame, education was too important to her. It was kind of the only constant thing in her life. It defined her. Lexa the uptight valedictorian, Lexa the insufferable scholar.

  
_‘You’ll probably die alone, and not even with cats.’_ The snarky remark of some girl from her high school, whose name she can’t remember, and a face she can’t put to it. All the same, that particular sentence always echoed in the back of her mind. Like a slow and steady pulse. The words of others had little effect on her, but that short remark was the exception. Lexa knew she had to maintain her walls and exclude herself because people always managed to let her down one way or another. Thus she was infamous for her stoic mannerism. She never showed much of anything. And that was the way she liked it.

  
She opened her eyes slowly, adjusting them to the light. Her green eyes remained steady and unblinking for an extended second. Her eyes were prominent and bold. Not like any normal green, they were deep and enormous resembling the Amazon basin.

Her bed rattled under her and a distant squeak followed. She isn’t sure why, but for the oddest reason the feel and sound of the streetcar passing always seemed to comfort her. The vibrations rung through her bones and in one quick motion she was wide awake and out of her bed. She padded her feet on the cold floor and released a pent up stretch. The sun beamed bright through her white curtains and drew beautiful patterns along her bed. The exquisite patterns caught her eye and a smirk rose on her mouth. How simple and beautiful she thought. She glared to the left of her bed and immediately the smirk fell, as if never there. Her eyes trained on a faux tree, overgrown and tall and very mighty. A memory flashed before her eyes and a familiar kind of sadness engulfed her.

  
_‘We’re getting this. It looks just like your eyes.’_ _A happy voice ordered._

  
She didn’t allow it to linger long. Not today. She did what she always did when memories flooded her unannounced, she pushed it to the back of her mind and refused to give it any attention. It hurts too much to focus on the past and all of its details.

  
Next to the artificial tree stood a keyboard, it was practically new and that was evident, aside from the thin layer of dust that settled upon it. She had been meaning to learn the instrument. Music was something she adored. But life has a funny way of handing you obligations and demanding your attention and time. Scattered on top of the keyboard was a couple of books, a notebook and a pair of white headphones. She approached her wooden table across from her bed, it was littered with makeup (that she almost never wore) and her vinyl’s stacked vertically in a blue milk crate. She began opening her contact case, and without the aid of a mirror, she put her contacts in. Before anything else she made herself a coffee. 1 round tablespoon of brown sugar and nothing else. Leaning against her kitchen counter, she held the mug closely with firm hands and hovered her plump lips over the rim like the mug was a prize that could be taken away from her. It kind of was a prize, one she awarded herself. For getting out of bed and for being awake at this god forsaken hour. The warmth of the mug radiated throughout her skin and she was fairly content. It wasn’t sufficient enough though, not like her bed was.

 _No comforter could combat this kind of coldness_ she figured as she took her first sip of coffee.

Her eyebrows lowered and a quiet moan escaped.

_Bitter, the way she liked it._

She gulped back the last bit of her coffee as she made her way to the bathroom.

 _“Shit.”_ She stared grossly at her disheveled hair in the circular mirror and let out a groan. The length of it passed her shoulders, and the brown locks were curly and untamable. Her tan skin was clear and blemish free, though dark circles did project under her eyes leaving evidence that sleep hadn’t come easy to her. Sleep rarely came easy to her, at least not for the past year.

She was beautiful, she knew she was. Confidence was never a problem for her; in fact she had quite a lot of it. If anything, her confidence was a problem for others.

The girl picked up her wide-tooth comb, and gently ran it through her hair. When she was certain there weren’t any knots, she began braiding her hair. The girl had mastered the skill of creating intricate braids. And _hiding._

  
_Today she went for a simpler kind of hair-do, the fishtail. Each strand like silk, the braid was full and fell like a river around her neck. When she had completed her morning routine, she stared into her mirror a moment too long. She was convinced her reflection was going to communicate what so badly needed to be released from her chest. If she were to pinpoint a location, she would say the subtle ache was just behind her ribs and they were like a cage locking away anything that resembled weakness._

  
_…..This girl had given her heart away. She knew that love required sacrifice and selflessness. With the understanding that it wouldn’t be returned to her, that it was no longer hers. Every piece of herself had clung to the new owner. So she did what she had to do to survive the empty gape that had grown in her pit._

  
Rushing to her room, she opened her dresser. She located the outfit that she positioned neatly there the night before. At the forefront she found a white loose oxford shirt. She slid one arm into the sleeve, the fabric gracing her skin gently, eliciting a small shiver from the newfound cold. She slithered her other arm in and began button up the shirt. Not long later, she wiggled her legs into her blue skinny jeans. They fit perfectly on her narrow hips and were incredibly comfortable. Because of this, they were awarded the title of being her favorite pair. She lifted her shirt past her stomach, to better button her pants. Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and analyzed herself.

  
She looked prim, proper and uptight. Perhaps even more uptight than her abs.

Swinging her creaky door wide open, and grabbed the grey sweater that hung there. With an eager tug, a pile of clothes fell from the other 3 hooks on the back of the door. Hoodies. Jackets. Another cardigan. A purse. With a lazy sigh and a crack of her knees, she started picking up the mess. Individually she placed them back in their original spot. She wondered when her room became so messy. Just as fast as the thought came, the realization washed over her face.

_A year ago._

  
Most things could be correlated with a year ago

Her phone was ringing now, and she knew who it was. She thought about ignoring the call, she wasn’t in the mood to bicker about do’s and don’ts. She answered it anyway.

  
_“Alexandria, finally.”_ The agitated voice spoke.

 _“You know I hate that name, Margaret.”_ She answered quickly.

_‘’You will call me mom. And don’t take that tone with me.”_

_“I apologize.”_ She rolled her eyes, and tried to hide the sarcasm.

The phone was silent for a few minutes before the woman’s stern voice jumped out of the phone and Lexa was certain there were hands around her neck.

_“Anyways, how are you finding your accommodations? Lovely apartment I got for you. You know, you should be more grateful. And don’t get me started on the cost of going to this univ-“_

_“I know mother! You’re always reminding me. I won’t forget.”_ She interrupted. I wish I could forget was left unsaid. Her mom never failed to remind her that she has a place to sleep, in the downtown core, thanks to her. Never failed to mention that she is going to one of the most prestigious universities because she ‘selflessly’ paid for her tuition. Lexa knew her mother always had ulterior motives.

“You will not get into any shenanigans, do you hear me? Margaret’s low voice spoke. It was a demanding whisper.

Lexa knew what she was referring too, her mother always managed to bring it up. She managed to bring everything up. She thought God, if only she could cut ties with this woman.

Lexa didn’t speak.

 _“Very well. Take care Alexandria. “_ And the woman hung up, and Lexa was left on the buzzing line.

 _“Bitch.”_ She growled to herself and to the empty room.

Her hands trembled around the phone, knuckles now turning white and veins bulging from the hold. Looking to the ceiling she bit her lip and inhales a hitched breath.

With a shaky release of oxygen, she snaps herself out of her mother’s power. She wouldn’t allow her mother to ruin her day; she has done more than enough ruining.

Lexa marches with clenched hands to her room but doesn’t pass the threshold. Instead, she stands and scans her room from left to right until her eyes find what they’re looking for. With a tilt of her head and one swift motion, she grabs her textbooks and laptop. She turns to find her black bag hanging on the doorknob. She promptly puts her belongings in her bag. After she finished tying the laces of her combat boots, she was out the door.

The cold air blew against her, sending shivers down her back. It was sunny and bright out, but the wind betrayed how it looked.

 

She adjusted to the change of temperate in no time, and internally gave herself props for deciding to wear her green army jacket. Her school was a 20 minute walk from her apartment, and despite the chilly weather, she decided to use her perfectly working legs instead of public transportation.  
She rather enjoys moments like these. The solitude that comes with walking by herself, and the peace that overflows every ounce of her.

Peace isn’t something that comes easy for lexa. Not with a mother like hers, not with a loss that is so deeply _hers_. She can’t help but glance every once in awhile at the sky, as if to make sure it hasn’t left. Being reminded that the sky is settled atop all of us, that it is so enormous and beautiful. It hovers like it loves every one of us, like it is protecting us all with a close, gentle hug. Like it is articulating in the only way it knows how; that we are to be cherished and looked after. The sky never fails to put her life into perspective, to remind her how incredibly small she really is. Suddenly, her eyes turn dark and her nostrils flair and she begins to avoid looking at the sky like the plague. She was ripped from her thoughts, by an intrusive memory. She recalls why blue is her favorite color, and why the sky seems so damn loving. 

-

Students are walking from every direction. Spilling over from the streets and making their way to a massive, almost castle-like building. The atmosphere is overcrowded and so loud, yet nothing can really be heard. Conversations are mashed and mixed together, undoubtedly incoherent. Lexa is walking towards the main entrance, trying to hide her gaping look. The building is pristine; it’s ancient but at the same time doesn’t look old. Green grass and trees cover all along the building. She rotates her head to take in everything around her. Students are scattered everywhere. There is a group of them leaning against the trees and some find themselves in the middle of the field.

The ambiance is compelling and elegant. She feels, for the first time this year, a sliver of hope.  A new chapter of life awaits her and she’ll be damned if she lets her mother control her. Though she has endured heartbreaking circumstances, she needs to move ON.

She swings the heavy doors open, revealing the chaotic environment that is the first day of university. 


End file.
